exciting stories to cheer you up (if you're dead bored)...2 items

[Guest guest]

at least 3 years ago, the busiest McDonalds was in

Hong Kong, After the mad cow disease....I'm not so

sure about that...I like to peek into all burger

places I come across on my journies,.....to no one's

surprise,, they look kinda empty (unless you see

those 99cents burger specials, where they are

desparate to get back their business. However, they

don't know they are getting their customers sick of

their products)

 

something fun to read:

 

Vegan Kitty Blues

 

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Reply to: anon-3883896

Tue May 14 13:56:35 2002

 

 

I also started my kitty on a vegan diet some time ago.

She is an adult indoor/outdoor cat with free access to

the outside world through her own little cat door,

which I thought was more humane than keeping her

confined inside. Occasionally, however, she would

bring home and proudly display her " kill " ; once a poor

little lizard, once a defenseless little mouse. I

decided to go the vegan route, in hopes of curing her

of this abominable habit.

 

It was great at first, she took to it like a fish

takes to water and at feeding time I immediately

appreciated the fact that I didn't have that " canned

meat " smell intruding into my lifestyle any more. Then

she started bringing things into the house again.

Banana peels from the sidewalk. Sliced onions and

tomatoes, I guess from someone's discarded sandwich.

One day she brought home a whole wad of bean sprouts,

another day it was a recently excavated stalk of

celery. Once it was a little cactus, complete in it's

little 2 inch plastic pot.

 

In desperation I tried confining her to the patio on a

leash but she proceeded to nip all the buds from my

rose bush and then went on to trim down my entire

little herb garden. She dug up my prized bulbs and ate

those too.

 

I confined her to the house, the fruit bowl was

immediately history. The garlic on the countertop went

missing, I found the telltale dried garlic peels under

the couch. She took to knocking over the pasta

canister and she seemed to derive immense pleasure

from batting the little elbows all over the place

before consuming them.

 

Okay, I said, I'll lure her back from this madness. I

put out white chunk tuna in spring water. No deal.

Fresh salmon, no deal. Disgusting as it was, I even

tried making her tidbits of filet mignon. No deal. She

just turned up her little black nose and scratched

around her dish as though she was trying to bury it. I

switched tactics, feeding her rutabaga pie, but she

loved it. I put a concoction of quince, fenugreek,

chili peppers, cilantro and prunes in her dish. She

loved it.

 

Now all my house plants are gone and the vegetables

are under lock and key. She sits there and glares at

me; hungrily eyeing my cotton shirt, the wicker

baskets, the wood furniture. I'm afraid to leave. I am

afraid to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

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